She wants to know what we’ve decided. They all do.We are standing in a hallway. Endless.There are countless closets. Someone has a key.No, we are sitting. It is raining all around us.The table is dry. There is a pillowof wet above us. We are feeding each other with large spoons.It is a chowder, not a stew. There are not enoughclams. There are always two sides.The curse of opposites. What is the answer? Can you imagine it? There are houses of pigeons in the back yard.Trapped. We walk up and down many stairs.On the second floor we have to give our passportsto the official behind the glass door. There are nostamps on any of the pages. Someone has a red ink pad perched open. The ground is gravel. No, it is burgundy carpet. Even the walls are coveredin carpet. There is an illuminated paintingof The Last Supper above the fishtank. We wait for the train. No, it is the bus. The lights shinein our faces. The bus splashesa curb puddle like a jet of hose. We arethe flowers. The doors don’t open. And then she asks again. After Rumi Listen. Today, you will put down your staff.You will rest your fingers. No typing. No dialing of numbers.Today, you shall listen. Listen with every part of your body.You did not know your eyes are able to listen?Even your organscan listen. Do not fear that feeling in your chest. It is air.Gabriella M. Belfiglio’s work has appeared most recently in the Lambda Literary Review as the featured poet. She has also had writing published in the award-winning anthology Poetic Voices Without Borders, as well as The Dream Catcher’s Song, Avanti Popolo,Folio, The Centrifugal Eye, CC&D, Podium, and The Potomac Review, among other places. She works as an artist and teacher in New York City.

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